My GF; Fucking & How We Met Ch. 06

I dropped her at the Children's hospital, but didn't go on to work. I stopped by Emerald City Medical Arts for my weekly instead and then drove around the lake to 1818 Westlake. I had a few minutes before my appointment to see my girlfriend's new therapist, so I walked the marina and took in some salt air and breeze.

I love my city. All the people who complain about the drizzle in Seattle, well, they're right. It rains lightly a lot and heavy sometimes. But fuck 'em anyway. On days like that when the weather should be a put off, I look out over the Lake of Shining Waters and see the grey-blue of clear glass and cloudy sky melding together and feel at peace.

Refreshed, I walked into Dr. Caldwell's office, gave my name to the bubbly secretary, and took a seat in one of the comfortable saddle brown leather club chairs in the waiting room. A couple minutes passed and I was just getting into a current Economist article when my name was called.

"Good morning, Kayleigh," Dr. Caldwell greeted me and gestured to a couch for me to have a seat. "How can I help you today?"

"You saw my girlfriend, Jenny, yesterday?"

"Ah. I can't discuss her session with you." Adrienne recommended Dr. Caldwell as a therapist with expertise in adult patients with Asperger's and patients with a history of abuse. I'd expected at least that baseline of professionalism.

"No, of course not. I want her to have confidentiality with someone who can help her with...things." The good doctor has come to know as well as I what those "things" are, but I didn't know what they'd discussed the day before and I really do want to protect my girlfriend's confidences.

"So what is it you'd like my help with for yourself?"

"Nothing. Well, nothing about me directly. I'm aggressive, self-seeking, capricious, controlling, and ruthless, with rather fluid ethics. Generally, I like all those things about myself, but I don't want to run roughshod over her." I paused to phrase my request right. "Doc, I'm pretty sure she'll do anything for me and I want to ensure that what I ask for from her helps her."

"Give me an example?"

"Alright. She's nervous about meeting my friends. It needs to happen eventually and they'll be welcoming and kind. How can I best get her through the initial meeting and help her be comfortable with them?"

"She'll be most comfortable if the verbal interaction is limited at first. Pick an involved activity and one that provides obvious topics to discuss after, like a movie or a concert. A huge group can be hard, but too intimate a group can be too. Try to be sure she can contribute to the conversation if she wants, but don't let it become an interview. What else have you been trying to navigate?"

"With her background, can I spank her?"

The shrink and I kept talking for the full hour. On my way into work afterward, I made one more stop at the drycleaner. I had to pick up my outfit to be her stripper for the night.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Friday morning, I wake to the scent of lavender from my girlfriend's pretty red hair as she kisses me goodbye and tells me to be good.

I go right back to sleep. The sex doesn't hit my Amazon girlfriend as hard as it does me. She's off at work and lively, but I just want to conk back out and sleep until noon.

I almost do, but she wakes me with a phone call so I'm technically getting up while it's still morning. She also teases me about what she's doing to me tonight and gives me a fake hint, so I hang up in a mischievous mood and change my plan a little.

I'm not due at Nic's until 3pm, but I figure I'll head over to her house early and surprise her when she comes home from the bar and shopping for party favors.

There are no cars at their big house when I arrive, so I know that Dr. Hartford, Nic, and the maid are all gone. Surprise plan in motion, I pop in the alarm code and step inside.

My girlfriend has a maid for her house too, but she comes by while I'm at yoga on Tuesdays and Thursdays now. I thought it was weird, but Nic says it's normal.

They have a coat closet by the main door with little slats in it that I can see through from within, so I shut myself inside and wait for Nic.

After about 10 minutes of sitting still, I'm rethinking my plan (or any plan in which a key element is me sitting still) when the door opens.

Nic hurries in and doesn't notice me, but she's carrying bags while she rushes inside and I don't want her to drop anything. I decide to jump out when she comes back through to bring in all the rest.

But when she returns, she's naked.

Nic is a very beautiful woman. She's a mixture of African-American and Filipina-American, with a perfectly symmetrical face, slender hands, warm brown eyes, and a fun four inch afro that bounces when she walks or shakes her head. She has a tinkly happy laugh and is always kind and honest with me too.

Dr. Hartford likes her to wear boy clothes though, so I have never had a good chance to see Nic's body like this before. She's toned, but really curvy and inviting.

As she skips lightly across the floor and kneels next to the door, I realize she's not completely naked. She's wearing thick leather bracelets.

Her kneeling confuses me, in both why and how.

Dr. Caldwell taught me to do a kind of body language math to read physical expression when I'm confused, but she's a false equation. She's kneeling, which means hurt or tired, but her shoulders are locked back high and her chest is thrust out, which means proud or resolute, and then her head is bowed with her eyes downcast, which means shame or prayer. Her face is no help. It keeps twitching between happy signs and serious signs. Her arms are up with her fingers laced behind her head. I don't know what that means.

Whatever she's doing, it must be private and it's way too late to come out of the closet without seriously embarrassing both of us. I should probably stop peeking at my friend now, though.

The closet ceiling is much less interesting.

I hear the main door open again. I look even though I know it can't be her leaving. My girlfriend told me Nic is into voyeurism and exhibition, but I'm sure she wouldn't go outside with no clothes on.

It's Dr. Hartford coming in, I guess on an afternoon lunch break. She's wearing a somber gray blazer with a long loose skirt and flats. Her rich brown hair with iron gray streaks is in a tight, old-fashioned bun. And she ignores Nic entirely.

She opens a tall cabinet with a little lock on it and takes out a crystal decanter and one tumbler. She sets the tumbler on an end table next to a comfy-looking armchair and pours it full of a brown liquid and sets the decanter down beside it.

Nic doesn't move, doesn't talk. Neither of them greet each other. It's weird. This is weird, right?

Dr. Hartford returns to the cabinet and takes a short length of chain, a diamond choker with a tag, and riding crop – oh. ~~~It's a sex thing.

I really shouldn't be watching this. I can't exactly hop out and yell surprise at this point either. And, well, wouldn't you watch?

It's fascinating. Their interaction is wrong. It's not how they behave together.

It doesn't feel wrong though, just intense. The room I'm watching has too much stored energy waiting to become kinetic?

Still silent, Dr. Hartford walks to Nic and whips her on the front of her really nice thigh. My friend's arms drop to her sides.

Dr. Hartford steps behind her and brings her arms behind her back, presumably to attach Nic's wrists together with the length of chain. Then she fastens the glimmering choker around the kneeling woman's slender neck. With her left hand now free, Dr. Hartford runs her fingers through Nic's hair and pets her head briefly. Then she cracks the crop down on Nic's butt and goes to sit in her chair.

The doctor sips her drink while she watches Nic duck walk across the floor to kneel on the rug at her feet. Then she lovingly caresses the side of Nic's face and for the first time, speaks.

"Darling, I need to leave for work again in 45 minutes. Give me a foot rub and please me."

The conversation comforts me somewhat, even one-sided as it is.

Nic nods, then removes Dr. Hartford's shoes and starts rubbing her stocking-clad feet. Dr. Hartford sighs and relaxes into her chair, still sipping her drink.

Now that I know what's going on and I'm not afraid of being caught, I relax a bit too. Right or wrong, the damage is done and I may as well enjoy my crime. I'll sneak out after and tell my girlfriend. She'll apologize to Nic for me.

Crisis of conscience tabled, I watch my friend demonstrate her massage technique. Her breasts wobble as she presses hard into Dr. Hartford's feet. She's gorgeous, and seems even more lovely as she devotes herself to Dr. Hartford.

The doctor herself moans with pleasure, apparently finding both physical and sexual pleasure from Nic's hands manipulating her feet.

She terrifies me a little, Dr. Hartford. Not that I think she'd attack me. It's more like the way police officers are scary, only more concentrated.

She's very attractive, maybe even more so for her aura of peril, but traditionally too. She has a regal quality to her and a great figure. Like a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother.

[Oh, how the fuck should I know what that means? Dr. Marion Hartford is beautiful and commanding with a panty-dropping authoritarian presence. I adore her and am amazingly lucky to share my life with such a forcefully magnetic woman. – Nic]

Dr. Hartford seems content with her foot job, because she sets down her now empty glass, leans forward, and swats Nic on the butt smartly with the crop.

Nic scoots herself forward to the edge of the chair and from the new angle I can see her bare shoulders, her back, and her generous bottom. Only her wrists shackled behind her mar the view.

Dr. Hartford spreads her knees wide to accommodate. Nic ducks her head under Dr. Hartford's skirt. The doctor puts a hand on the very notable lump in her skirt where Nic's head must be, lays down the crop, closes her eyes, and sighs deeply.

The lump moves slightly in Dr. Hartford's lap and I hear – albeit muffled – the familiar sounds of a woman being pleased by lips and tongue.

Dr. Hartford's scent fills the air and she's enthralling.

The woman herself lets her head fall back. I've met her dozens of times now, but I've never seen her look so open and unguarded. Even though Nic is the one bound and undressed on her knees, she seems more exposed in this moment.

When Dr. Hartford cums, it's quiet, dignified, and unbelievably powerful.

She takes a few moments to gather herself, then taps the lump in her lap. Nic, who's way more coordinated with her hands cuffed behind her back than I would be, backs out and remains kneeling.

A trace of cum glistens on her lower lip and down her chin. I marvel at how much discipline she must have to not lick it off.

Dr. Hartford stands and adjusts her skirt. Then she reaches down to collect the cum off Nic's chin with a single finger, brings the finger to her mouth, and sucks it clean. Her now clean hand pats Nic on the head.

~~~The ever neat Dr. Hartford next deliberately picks up the tumbler and decanter and puts them back in the cabinet. In succession, she picks up the crop and walks behind Nic to remove the chain and choker.

When she bends over Nic, she notices me in the closet.

Her eyes catch mine.

I look away and then back at her feet.

My breath hitches.

"Whoever is in my closet, open the door. Now." She sounds furious.

Shaking, I slide the door open and stare at the floor.

"Jennifer? What are you doing in my closet?"

"I, I, I," I can't speak. It's the gom jabbar test and I'm going to fail.

"Marion, she must- aaaaa!" Nic starts to defend me, but Dr. Hartford turns and snaps the crop sharply on my firend's thigh, leaving an angry red mark on smooth skin.

"I did not give you permission to speak," Dr. Hartford turns back and steps toward me, "Now, Jennifer, why are you in my closet?"

I can't look away from the crop as she closes the short distance between us. I can think what to say. I start hyperventilating.

She looks down at the crop too, and then tosses it away.

"Calm down, child," She strokes my hair the way Kay does sometimes, "I'm not going to whip you. Just tell me what you're doing here."

I try, but I can't seem to force any words out. I want to tell her that I only meant to surprise Nic and that I couldn't think how to get out of the closet.

"Do you have your phone with you?"

I nod.

"Well, hand it to me, child." She holds out her hand and I pull my phone from my pocket and hand it to her.

She looks through my phone for a few endless seconds, hits a few buttons and hands it back to me.

"You haven't been recording anything, so I guess it's alright. I've dialed Kayleigh. Tell her what's going on here."

I hold the phone to my ear and my girlfriend's on the other end.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I came to Nic's early to jump out of the closet and surprise her, but then she was naked and I didn't know, and then I did know, and then Dr. Hartford came, and then Nic was with her, and I was embarrassed, and I saw them, and now Dr. Hartford's mad, and I didn't tell her, and she called you, and I'm sorry, Baby."

My girlfriend tells me that everything's going to be okay and to give Dr. Hartford the phone.

"She's fine, just shaken up. Cute, really. She probably wouldn't take it amiss if you came over though." Dr. Hartford laughs softly and shakes her head as she hands me back my phone.

But then she looks at me sternly again and quietly admonishes, "You silly-silly girl, you must learn to be more cautious." She pets me again and continues less sternly and more conspiratorially. "If I didn't consider Kayleigh a friend, I'd have canceled the rest of my engagements for the afternoon and you'd be cuffed and naked on your knees next to my Nicole."

I can't help thinking that I wouldn't hate that.

She snorts delicately and steps back over to Nic, removing the chain and choker. Nic stands, embraces Dr. Hartford, and kisses her.

"You may dress and see to your little friend, darling," Dr. Hartford releases Nic and carefully replaces everything in the cabinet before stepping through the main door, "I'll see you after your party."

"Alright, honey," Nic walks to me and pulls me out of the closet, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Nic's still naked. She's still really hot.

My friend pulls me into a hug and that hot naked body presses against me. I don't know what to do with my hands. It's awkward.

She's being so nice. And forgiving. And all I can think about is how good she smells and how she looked on her knees.

"Marion likes you, but she's paranoid about being filmed. To be fair, a leaked recording of her having a little 'afternoon delight' would embarrass her professionally to no end. C'mon," Nic takes my hand again and leads me into the sitting room where all the bags are stowed. "You get started on the party favors and I'll throw something on."

I try so hard not to watch the way she sways as she walks away. I fail that test too.

The party favors don't make particular sense to me. There are jugs of sand and pebbles, dozens of empty little plastic bottles, ribbon, little pieces of parchment paper, and a bunch of various colored pens. Not sure what exactly to do, I organize everything on and around the glass coffee table and sit on the couch to wait.

Nic comes back wearing a white men's dress shirt that does nothing to hide her sexy legs and little to hide anything else. She sits and explains that they're supposed to be messages in bottles because Anne's a marine cartographer.

I notice myself noticing the shape of her nipple as she speaks, so I look down. Her feet are so pretty too. I try to look at her face as she goes on to explain how we need to tie on the ribbons to the necks of the bottles and pour sand into them, but I immediately feel the blush overcoming me and decide to keep my eyes on the party favor supplies. I hope she can't tell how much she's turning me on.

[Of course I can. And I realize that it's making her uncomfortable, but she's soooo fun to tease. Can you really blame me for having a tiny little bit of fun with her? I'm sure Kay wouldn't mind. – Nic]

"What do you want to do, Jenny?"

"What?" I miss something she'd said before.

"Do you want to tie the ribbons or pour?" she asks again patiently. Her voice is like melting butter in sugar.

"I'll pour." I doubt I'd be any good at tying ribbons.

We work and chat. I manage to find my voice and get more comfortable. I only almost jump out of my skin once, when she brushes her breasts against my arm as she leans over me to grab more ribbon.

"C-can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, honey."

"Why didn't—That is to say, why wouldn't—Or rather—" I have trouble figuring out what I'm trying to ask, but Nic waits patiently for my thoughts to arrange themselves. "Why would Dr. Hartford not talk to you when she came home earlier?"

Nic puts the ribbon down and sets one hand gently on my knee. I stop trying to pour.

"Marion and I have a special partnership. We each support each other through the trials of daily life. One of the most grating things about her job is the constant need to talk with so many people throughout the day. As a break, she likes to come home in the middle of the day, have a glass of port and some 'stress relief' from me, and relax in silence before she has to face the noise of the world again."

A sense of relief washes over me as the equation is balanced in my head, but I have more questions.

"How does Dr. Hartford support you?"

I watch the hand on my knee squeeze.

"Well – for one – she lets me relieve her stress. Also-"

The interrupting doorbell rings, but only as a formality. My girlfriend walks in with Melody and a beautiful blonde lady who must be Anne. When I say blonde, I mean really blonde. Her hair and skin are pale and she's tall and willowy. She could be one of Baum's "Sea Fairies."

"Really, Nic?" Melody scolds her. "Couldn't find some trousers?"

Nic mumbles something.

"Let's go upstairs, Pretty Girl." My girlfriend drops all but one small bag and takes me away. "I bought something for you that I'd like to see you try on and I bet that Melody and Anne aren't done giving style tips to Nic. Oh, Anne this is my girlfriend, Jenny. Jenny, Anne." Anne waves sweetly as I'm hauled away.

My head droops while I follow my caring girlfriend. She'd been picking out a present for me this afternoon while I'd lusted after one of her best friends.

She leads me into an empty bedroom and stops to look at me. I'm sure she can read the guilt all over my face.

"Sweetness, what's wrong?" She sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me into her lap. "No one's mad at you. You shouldn't try to play tricks in other people's houses, but I think we'll all look back and laugh eventually."

"It's not that. But, yeah, that was weird."

"What's bugging you then, Dearheart?"

"I'm attracted to Nic."

"Well, yes." She rubs my tummy beneath my shirt. "You're a gay woman, Kitten. It's one of my favorite things about you."

"But Nic's your friend."

"She is. She's also a beautiful woman. I don't mind you being attracted to her. I certainly am."

"Have you ever...with her?"

"No, although she's seen me hook up with plenty of women over the years on the closed circuit cameras at her clubs. She's in a committed look-but-don't-touch relationship with Dr. Hartford though and Dr. Hartford scares the shnikies out of me."

"You too?"

"Yes." She hugs me a little tighter. "But I know Nic likes you too, and – if Dr. Hartford's okay with it - you can have a play date with Nic. I'm not the jealous type, Cutie. In fact, if you can bend Melody or Anne, I'll buy you anything you want."